


In Stasis

by bewarethesmirk



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-27
Updated: 2012-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-04 09:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewarethesmirk/pseuds/bewarethesmirk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin hopes for Arthur to say something, for him to acknowledge the <i>something</i> that is suspended in the air.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Stasis

The moon hangs full and golden in the sky. Sometimes Merlin can’t help but wonder who put it there.

Arthur is tucked warmly against his side, and the fire blazes high. The log underneath them, though, is really uncomfortable. Merlin shifts his limbs into a more comfortable arrangement, accidentally leaning against Arthur a bit more.

He needn’t look beside him to know Arthur is staring at his forehead. Again. 

Right on cue, Arthur speaks. Merlin almost smiles.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Merlin.” Arthur is definitely staring now. Yeah, probably glaring. “I don’t need saving.”

“Oh no, of course not. You weren’t being strangled by that bandit at all.”

Arthur scoffs. “I had him under control.”

Rolling his eyes, Merlin casts them downward, away from the moon, but certainly not towards Arthur. 

“Merlin,” Arthur says, and then his fingers are underneath Merlin’s chin, tilting it up, and Merlin’s breath catches. Could—could—?

But Arthur only looks at Merlin’s bruised forehead, studying it, silent, and Merlin wonders if there’s a word that means both fuck, this is awkward and please.

The light of the fire dances along Arthur’s cheek, brightens his eyes. He doesn’t drop his fingers.

“You do this because you feel you owe me something,” Arthur accuses.

Merlin wonders if Arthur possesses a brain at all.

“Look, I don’t do it out of some kind of duty,” Merlin says, wondering if Arthur can even understand - Arthur, who is all about preordained responsibility.

Arthur’s eyes narrow, and his hand drops to his side. Merlin stupidly wills himself not to ask if Arthur will touch him again.

“You told me, Merlin. Remember, you idiot?” He raises his eyebrows. “Supposedly the Great Dragon implanted this nonsense in your head.”

“But he was right,” Merlin says, and cuts off Arthur before he can speak. “About us.”

“He was fooling you!”

“Yeah. Yeah, he was.” The fire crackles, and Merlin jabs at Arthur’s shoulder with his finger. “But I would do this anyway. I can protect you, and so I do.”

“I already told you: I don’t need saving. And you’re going to get caught and then where would you be?”

Arthur’s eyes are wide, imploring, and Merlin thinks he understands. He brushes his fingers along the bruise on his forehead, and Arthur’s gaze lifts to follow the movement.

“I don’t care about me,” Merlin says, and then realises what he’s admitted. “But—but it doesn’t matter, now, does it? It’s only a bruise.”

For a long moment there’s only silence, the moonlight in Arthur’s hair, and his body still too close to Merlin’s. Merlin hopes for Arthur to say something, for him to acknowledge the something that is suspended in the air.

At last, Arthur answers.

“It’s time to rest,” is all he says, and gets to his feet. When his hand brushes against Merlin’s thigh, Merlin feels a hollowness in the pit of his stomach, a void that’s destined to be there a while longer.


End file.
